My sister’s roses (and more free garden books)

I’m back after a week with a sudden road trip to Tucson, Ariz., to see my big sister through major abdominal surgery. The storm that blew in from California took her DSL line out with it, and so I wasn’t able to offer up “Right Rose, Right Place” at the right time last Thursday.

Tucson looked green for a desert, and being a frequent visitor, I knew chances were good that the rainy-day forecasts were not what they seemed. What passes for rain in Tucson is a morning drizzle and then low clouds that briefly hug the mountains before disappearing, chased away by gentle sun and birdsong. In my sister’s back yard, one foolish hollyhock was bravely flinging girlish blooms at winter, and an intoxicating lavender-colored rose was holding onto a single tight bloom right outside her front door.

To me, roses have always stood for generous, loving welcome. And that’s my big sister all over. Brash and bossy and quite the party girl in her day, she now owns a small acreage that she shares with two rescued dogs and a rescued BLM mustang and a rescued quarterhorse mare that someone brought to the feed store to give away because they couldn’t afford to feed it anymore. Oh, and a rescued cowboy and his two horses. And his elderly mother. And the cowboy’s friend who was staying for a while just before I came. And whatever nieces, nephews, cousins or other unrelated waifs and strays happen to stumble in.

She has always been like this, a woman of generous welcome. For the first garden I planted at my home in Colorado — even though we’d just had a flaming row — she dug the scrubby, noxious junipers out of a brick planter so I could put in culinary herbs. On this visit, I have come for only a few days, but still she has gluten-free cookies waiting for me. She has saved a photo of her granddaughter, Madison, wearing a Western shirt that I bought for her. She has arranged for someone to pick me up at the airport and then the loan of a vehicle for me to drive so that I don’t have to rent a car.

Before her surgery, we water the new garden beds she’s had put in, including the roses, and I clip down the sheets and blankets that cover some of the plants against an anticipated freeze. We talk about how much rain will be needed to make a second watering that week unnecessary.

She’s ready.

I won’t talk about watching her face pain and indignity and new rules and forced inactivity. Let’s just say that when they let her go, it was a rough ride back from the hospital over the hills and potholes. That she looked a whole lot better after a mere two hours at home, propped in a wing chair with her dogs by her side. That I rejoiced in seeing her eat mashed potatoes, and that when she got up to snack on a Pop-Tart a little bit later, I was so happy, I had to give up hating junk food.

On her second night back at home, when merely walking to the kitchen could wear her out, she was pacing with the phone on one ear, counseling a troubled friend of a friend, urging him to stay in school. She let him ramble, bringing him back to earth, back to his center, reminding him that his was the only life he could control. I started motioning to her that she needed to go to bed, that she could cut this guy off at any time. She heard him out. That’s how she is.

Last Thursday night Arizona got slapped by the weather. Flights canceled, roads closed, the washes and creeks out of their banks, the snow on Mount Lemon measured in feet. I packed and slept. Ann was my alarm clock, up at six in the morning to wake me for my plane back to Denver.

And as I hugged her and left her home, I saw an astonishing sight. The lavender rose, plumped out, saucer-sized and lush, jeweled with rain, pumping its fragrance out into the fresh morning.

Becky Hensley is the co-founder of Share Denver - a community craft space in Park Hill. She's also the proud Ninja-in Chief of the Denver Craft Ninjas -- a women’s crafting collective dedicated to keeping the DIY spirit alive through laughter, shared skills, and cocktails.

Colorado native Mark Montano is an international designer, artist, author and television personality. He has appeared on TLC’s “While You Were Out” and “10 Years Younger,” as well as “My Celebrity Home” on the Style Network, “She’s Moving In” on We TV, “The Tony Danza Show” on ABC, and “My Home 2.0” on Fox.